


A Million Times

by kiyala



Series: Toxic [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Insomnia, M/M, Mentions of attempted suicide, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel has recurring nightmares of finding Grantaire. Jehan is always there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Times

Jehan is still awake when Bahorel starts stirring in his sleep. It starts off small, his fingers gripping at the covers, but it grows from there. His shoulders twitch, he begins frowning, and while Jehan debates whether or not he should just wake Bahorel up, he begins to whimper. 

It's past three o'clock in the morning and Jehan is grateful that he has tomorrow off, because he's so very tired. When Bahorel's whimpers grow louder, Jehan firmly pushes his exhaustion away, deciding that he'll give in to it _later_. He sits up, turning to Bahorel and touching his shoulder.

"Bahorel…"

It doesn't work, and it never does. Bahorel is too deep in his dream to be woken, and when he reaches this point, there's little else Jehan can do but wait for him to wake on his own. It's never pleasant and Jehan hates this, he hates seeing Bahorel helpless and upset, hates listening to him sob and mumble in his sleep, hates the pleading tone to his voice even though the actual words are unintelligible.

" _No_!" Bahorel wakes with a start, sitting up and flailing, and Jehan immediately reaches over to calm him down. 

"Shh, listen to me, listen. It's okay, it was a dream. You're here." Bahorel is a large person as it is, and Jehan is tiny. He cannot effectively stop Bahorel from struggling as his mind clings to the dream, but he doesn't let go. It takes Bahorel a moment to stop struggling, to realise where he is. 

"Jehan." Bahorel's voice breaks over his name, and there are tears in his eyes. Jehan pulls him close, resting their foreheads together, and Bahorel takes a shuddering breath. "I dreamed that I was too late. That I got there just a couple of minutes later and he—Jehan—"

"Shh." Jehan strokes his hand through Bahorel's hair. "It's okay, darling, it was just a bad dream. You found him, you saved him. He's fine."

Bahorel's shoulders are still trembling and he buries his face against Jehan's neck. Jehan's heart breaks when he feels the warm tears against his skin.

"We'll go and visit Grantaire tomorrow morning," Jehan murmurs, to comfort Bahorel, to fill the silence. "We'll take him out for breakfast and we'll talk about whatever we want. That sounds nice, doesn't it? He's going to be there, and he's going to be fine. Don't you worry about it, you just had a bad dream. That's all it was."

Bahorel takes one of Jehan's hands into his own, squeezing tightly. His voice is shaky when he speaks. "Yeah. That sounds good. We'll go to that café near the art gallery. R loves that place. You'll come too, this time. You've met him now, and he likes you, so it's not going to be awkward like you worried about before."

"Of course I'll come." Jehan presses a kiss to Bahorel's temple. "You think you can get back to sleep now? You had a long day, and you've already woken up twice tonight."

"I'm sorry," Bahorel mumbles. "I'm sorry I keep waking you up every time."

"Don't you apologise to me," Jehan scolds, his tone fond. "It's not your fault."

"It's not R's fault either, okay?" Bahorel's voice is still quiet, as they both lie back down on their sides, facing each other.

"Of course not," Jehan places a hand on Bahorel's cheek, using his thumb to wipe the trace of tears from the corner of his eye. "I know that. He's a wonderful, kind person, and I'm sorry he had to go through what he did. I'm glad he has you and Feuilly to take care of him. He deserves the best, and that's exactly what you are."

Bahorel smiles, kissing Jehan gently. "I love you so damn much. Sorry for waking you."

"I love you," Jehan replies, stroking Bahorel's cheek. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here."

It takes a while for Bahorel to fall asleep again, his arm slung across Jehan's waist, not quite pulling him close but keeping him where he is. For Jehan, sleep doesn't come at all. He lies there in bed, wiping the tears from his eyes as he thinks about Grantaire, as he remembers the utter mess that Bahorel had been for the entire time that Grantaire was in hospital. It's even more vivid now that he's actually met Grantaire and has a face to the name, someone to actually visualise in a pool of his own blood, the way Bahorel's subconscious cruelly reminds him of.

The nightmares don't come every single night, and Jehan is thankful for that, but they come often enough that even when Jehan is asleep, he is a much lighter sleeper than before, waking up the moment that he feels or hears Bahorel stirring. Jehan doesn't know what he can do to help, except for being there when Bahorel needs him, murmuring words of reassurance, reminding him that Grantaire is fine, that no matter what tricks his mind tries to play on him, he _wasn't_ too late.

He slips out of bed when the sun begins to rise, even more exhausted than before. He's managed to doze off for a few minutes here and there, but none of it actually feels restful. Bahorel is fast asleep now—he hasn't woken up in the middle of any more nightmares—and continues to breath deeply as Jehan pulls his arm away and gets up. 

It's cold now that he's out of bed, and Jehan wraps his fluffy robe tightly around himself and finds his slippers, going into the kitchen to make himself the first of the many cups of coffee he'll need to get through the day. 

He's on his third, curled up on the couch underneath a blanket and watching the TV with the volume at its lowest setting, when Bahorel wakes up. He walks out of their bedroom, looking around until he finds Jehan. With a sleepy smile, Bahorel walks over to him, taking one of his hands and kissing it.

"Morning. You look warm."

"I'd be even warmer with you," Jehan murmurs, shuffling over and holding his blanket open for Bahorel to join him under it. "No more nightmares after you went back to sleep?"

"Nope." Bahorel wraps an arm around Jehan's shoulders and pulls him close. "I know I apologised a lot to you last night, but I'm not sure I actually thanked you."

"No need," Jehan tells him with a kiss. "I already messaged Feuilly before he left for work, to let him know that we're taking Grantaire out to breakfast. He said he'll let Grantaire know so he's awake by the time we get there but you've got your key if he's fallen asleep again."

"You're amazing," Bahorel declares. "I don't even know where I'd be without you."

It's a quarter to nine by the time they get to Grantaire and Feuilly's apartment. Grantaire doesn't answer the door when Bahorel knocks and Jehan pretends not to notice the way he grabs for his own key with haste, before taking a calming breath and unlocking the door on his own. 

Grantaire is asleep on the couch, dressed to go out, a sketchbook open in his lap. He startles awake when Bahorel shuts the door behind them loudly, scrambling to close his sketchbook and place it on the coffee table in front of him. 

"You're drawing," Bahorel says, and the relief in his tone is so evident that it's almost painful. 

"Nothing I'd show anybody else," Grantaire mumbles, getting to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Are we going?"

"Ready when you are," Bahorel replies. Grantaire is busy putting his sketchbook and pencils away, so he misses the way Bahorel looks at him— _properly_ looks at him, as if to confirm that yes, he is here, that he is still alive. Jehan reaches for Bahorel's hand, squeezing it gently. Bahorel smiles at him sadly, before turning to the door, leading the way out.

The streets are crowded when they get into the busier part of the city and Bahorel walks ahead of them, shouldering his way past people so that they move out of their way. Grantaire walks beside Jehan, waiting until Bahorel is far enough ahead of them that he won't hear before clearing his throat.

"You don't look like you got a particularly good night's rest. I'm guessing Bahorel didn't either. I'm sorry."

Jehan turns to him, even though they both keep walking. "You know."

"I overheard him telling Feuilly. By accident." Grantaire sighs quietly. "But he always makes dumb excuses to drop by first thing in the morning every other day and—well. Look at him. He's about as subtle as a brick through a window."

Jehan snorts softly at that. "I suppose so."

"So I'm really sorry," Grantaire continues. "It's my fault he's having the nightmares, and it's my fault that they wake you up too. I just don't want to be the reason you decide that you're done with him because you're sick of being woken up in the middle of the night. You're really good for Bahorel and I—"

"I would be awake anyway," Jehan tells him. "Hypnos and I don't always get along, as much as I wish we did. Too many thoughts, and my brain never really learned to be quiet, even for a little while."

"I can relate to that," Grantaire mutters. "Sucks."

"It does," Jehan agrees. "But you don't need to worry, I'm not planning on going anywhere any time soon."

"Good." Grantaire links his arm with Jehan's. "I like you."

It's a simple statement and Grantaire says it like he's simply commenting on the weather, but it makes Jehan beam. Bahorel glances back at them through the crowd and the moment he sees their linked arms, he grins. 

"I think the two of you need to talk about the nightmares," Jehan murmurs as they continue walking, slowly catching up to Bahorel.

"I will," Grantaire replies. "Sometime soon. That's a promise. Would it be weird if I thanked you for being there for Bahorel when he's having the nightmares?"

"Not at all," Jehan assures him with a warm smile. "I love him. It's exactly where I want to be."

"Thank you," Grantaire says, so sincerely that it makes Jehan tighten his grip on his arm. "Thank you a million times."

"You're welcome," Jehan tells him with a smile. "A million times."


End file.
